For a Tagalog folk-tale connected with this romance, but changed so that it is hardly recognizable as a relative, see the story of "The Adorna (sic) Bird" (JAFL 20 : 107-108).

It is interesting to note that the Tagalog romance is definitely reminiscent of the "Swan Maidens" cycle in the method Juan uses to win the affections of Maria, the enchanter's daughter. For parallels to Juan's trick of stealing Maria's clothes while she and her sisters are bathing, see Macculloch, 342 f. For a large collection of "Swan Maiden" stories in abstract, see Hartland, chapters X and XI.

Considering the fact that both parts of our story are practically world-wide in their distribution, it is almost impossible to say where and when the two in combination first existed. I am inclined to think, on the whole, that our Filipino folk-tale is an importation, and is not native. As to the relationship between the popular and the literary versions of the story, I believe that in general the literary has been derived from the popular.



TALE 18

JUAN AND HIS ADVENTURES.

Narrated by Jose Ma. Katigbak, a Tagalog from Lipa, Batangas. He heard the story from Angel Reyes, another Batangueno.

Once in a certain village there lived a couple who had three daughters. This family was very poor at first. Near the foot of a mountain was growing a tree with large white leaves. [64] Pedro the father earned their living by selling the leaves of that tree. In time he got so much money from them that he a ordered a large house to be built. Then they left their old home, and went to live in the new house. The father kept on selling the leaves. After a year he decided to cut down the tree, so that he could sell it all at once and get much money. So he went to the foot of the mountain one day, and cut the tree down. As soon as the trunk had crashed to the ground, a large snake came out from the stump. Now, this snake was an enchanter, and was the friend of the kings of the lions, eagles, and fishes, as we shall see.

The snake said to Pedro, "I gave you the leaves of this tree to sell; and now, after you have gotten much money from it, you cut it down. There is but one suitable punishment for you: within three days you must bring all your daughters here and give them to me." The man was so astonished at first, that he did not know what to do. He made no reply, and after a few minutes went home. His sadness was so great that he could not even eat. His wife and daughters, noticing his depression, asked him what he was thinking about. At first he did not want to tell them; but they urged and begged so incessantly, that finally he was forced to do so.

He said to them, "To-day I cut down the tree where I got the leaves which I sold. A snake came out from the stump, and told me that I should bring you three girls to him or we should all die."

"Don't worry, father! we will go there with you," said the three daughters.

The next day they prepared to go to the snake. Their parents wept very much. Each of the three girls gave her mother a handkerchief as a remembrance. After they had bidden good-by, they set out on their journey with their father.

As soon as they reached the foot of the mountain, the three daughters disappeared at once, and the poor father returned home cheerless. A year had not passed by before a son was born to the old couple. They named him Juan. When the boy was about eighteen years old, his mother showed him the handkerchiefs of his sisters.

"Have I any sister?" said Juan to his mother.

"Yes, you have three; but they were taken away by a snake," she told him. Juan was so angry, that he asked his parents to give him permission to go in search of his sisters. At first they hesitated, but at last they gave him leave. So, taking the three handkerchiefs with him, Juan set out, and went to the mountain.

After travelling for more than ten days, Juan came across three boys quarrelling over the possession of a cap, a pair of sandals, and a key. He went near them, and asked them why they all wanted those three things. The boys told him that the cap would make the person who wore it invisible, the sandals would give their owner the power to fly, and that the key would open any door it touched.

Juan told the three boys that it would be better for them to give him those articles than to quarrel about them; and the boys agreed, because they did not want either of the others to have them. So Juan put the key in his pocket, the cap on his head, and the sandals on his feet, and flew away. After he had passed over many mountains, he descended. Near the place where he alighted he saw a cave. He approached its mouth, and opened the door with his key. Inside he saw a girl sitting near a window. He went up to her and took off his cap.

"Who are you?" said the girl, startled.

"Aren't you my sister?" said Juan.

"I have no brother," said the lady, but she was surprised to see the handkerchiefs which Juan showed her. After he had told her his story, she believed that he was really her brother.

"You had better hide," said the lady, holding Juan's hand, "for my husband is the king of the lions, and he may kill you if he finds you here."

Not long afterwards the lion appeared. She met him at the door. "You must have some visitors here," said the lion, sniffing the air with wide-open nostrils.

"Yes," answered the lady, "my brother is here, and I hid him, for I feared that you might kill him."

"No, I will not kill him," said the lion. "Where is he?" Juan came out and shook hands with the lion. After they had talked for a few hours, Juan said that he would go to look for his other sisters. The lion told him that they lived on the next two mountains.

Juan did not have much trouble in finding his other two sisters. Their husbands were the kings of the fishes and the eagles, and they received him kindly. Juan's three brothers-in-law loved him very much, and promised to aid him whenever he needed their help.

Juan now decided to return home and tell his parents where his three sisters were; but he took another way back. He came to a town where all the people were dressed in black, and the decorations of the houses were of the same color. He asked some people what had happened in that town. They told him that a princess was lost, and that he who could bring her back to the king should receive her hand in marriage and also half the property of the king. Juan then went to the king and promised to restore his daughter to him. The king agreed to reward him as the townspeople had said, if he should prove successful.

Early the next morning Juan, with his cap, sandals, and key, set out to look for the princess. After a two-days' journey he came to a mountain. Here he descended and began to look around. Finally he saw a huge rock, in which he found a small hole. He put the key in it, and the rock flew open. With his cap of invisibility on his head, he entered. There within he saw many ladies, who were confined in separate rooms. In the very last apartment he found the princess with a giant beside her. He went near the room of the princess, and opened the door with his key. The walls of all the rooms were like those of a prison, and were made of iron bars. Juan approached the princess, and remained near her until the giant went away.

As soon as the monster was out of sight, Juan took off his cap. The princess was surprised to see him, but he told her that he had come to take her away. She was very glad, but said that they had better wait for the giant to go away before they started. After a few minutes the giant went out to take a walk. When they saw that he had passed through the main door, they went out also. Juan put on his sandals and flew away with the princess. But when they were very near the king's palace, the princess disappeared: she was taken back by the giant's powerful magic. Juan was very angry, and he returned at once to the giant's cave. He succeeded in opening the main door, but he could not enter. After struggling in vain for about an hour, he at last determined to go to his brothers-in-law for help.

When he had explained what he wanted, the king of the eagles said to him, "Juan, the life and power of the giant are in a little box at the heart of the ocean. No one can get that box except the king of the fishes, and no one can open it except the king of the lions. The life of the giant is in a little bird which is inside the box. This bird flies very swiftly, and I am the only one who can catch it. The strength of the giant is in a little egg which is in the box with the bird."

When the king of the eagles had finished his story, Juan went to the king of the fishes. "Will you fetch me the box which contains the life and strength of the giant?" said Juan to the king of the fishes. After asking him many questions, his brother-in-law swam away, and soon returned with the box. When Juan had received it from him, he thanked him and went to the king of the lions.

The king of the lions willingly opened the box for him. As soon as the box was opened, the little bird inside flew swiftly away. Juan took the egg, however, and went back to the king of the eagles, and asked him to catch the bird. After the little bird had been caught, Juan pushed on to the cave of the giant. When he came there, he opened the door and entered, holding the bird in one hand and the egg in the other. Enraged at the sight of Juan, the giant rushed at him; and Juan was so startled, that he crushed the egg and killed the bird. At once the giant fell on his back, and stretched out his legs to rise no more.

Juan now went through the cave, opening all the prison doors, and releasing the ladies. He carried the princess with him back to the palace. As soon as he arrived, a great celebration was held, and he was married to the princess. After the death of the king, Juan became ruler. He later visited his parents, and told them of all his adventures. Then he took them to his own kingdom, where they lived happily together.

Notes.

A Tagalog variant of this story, entitled "Pedro and the Giants," and narrated by Jose Hilario from Batangas, runs thus in abstract:—

Two orphan sisters living with their brother Pedro are stolen by two powerful giants. Pedro goes in search of his sisters, and finds them. Contrary to the expectations of all, the two grim brothers-in-law welcome Pedro, and offer to serve him. Pedro later wishes to marry a princess, and the giants demand her of the king her father. He refuses to give her up, although she falls in love with Pedro. To punish his daughter, the king exposes her to the hot sun: but one of the giants shades her with his eagle-like wings. Then the other giant threatens the king; but the monarch says he is safe, for his life is contained in two eggs in an iron box guarded by two clashing rocks. With great personal risk the giant obtains the eggs; and, upon the king's still refusing to give his daughter to Pedro, the giant dashes the eggs to the ground, and the king falls dead. Pedro and the princess are then married.

This analogue of our story is not very close in details, yet there are enough general resemblances between the two to make it pretty certain that they are distantly related.

Our story of "Juan and his Adventures" belongs to the "Animal Brothers-in-Law" cycle, a formula for which Von Hahn (1 : 53) enumerates the following incidents:—

A Three princes who have been transformed into animals marry the sisters of the hero.

B The hero visits his three brothers-in-law.

C They help him perform tasks.

D They are disenchanted by him.

As Crane says (p. 60), this formula varies, of course. Sometimes there are but two sisters (cf. our variant), and the brothers-in-law are freed from their enchantment in some other way than by the hero. For a bibliography of this group, see Crane, 342-343, note 23, to No. 13.

Perhaps the best version of this story is that found in Basile, 4 : 3, the argument of which, as given in Burton's translation (2 : 372), runs thus:—

Ciancola, son of the King of Verde-colle, fareth to seek his three sisters, married one with a falcon, another with a stag, and the other with a dolphin; after long journeying he findeth them, and on his return homewards he cometh upon the daughter of a king, who is held prisoner by a dragon within a tower, and calling by signs which had been given him by the falcon, stag, and dolphin, all three came before him ready to help him, and with their aid he slayeth the dragon, and setteth free the princess, whom he weddeth, and together they return to his realm.

This argument does not quite do justice to the similarities between Basile's story and ours. For instance, in the Italian story, when the daughters leave, they give their mother three identical rings as tokens. Then a son is born to the queen. When he is fifteen years old, he sets out to look for his sisters, taking the rings with him. Nor, again, does this argument mention the fact that in the end the animal brothers-in-law are transformed into men,—a feature which is found in Basile, but not in our story. In the main, however, it will be seen that the two are very close. In Von Hahn, No. 25, the brothers-in-law are a lion, a tiger, and an eagle.

The opening of our story, so far as I know, is not found in any of the other members of this cycle. Usually the sisters are married to the animals in consequence of a king's decision to give his daughters to the first three persons who pass by his palace after a certain hour (Crane, No. XIII); or else the animals present themselves as suitors after the death of the king, who has charged his sons to see that their sisters are married (Von Hahn, No. 25; compare the opening of Wratislaw No. XLI = Wuk, No. 17). In our story, however, Pedro is deprived of his daughters in consequence of his greed. With this situation compare the "Maha-vanija-jataka," No. 493, which tells how some merchants find a magic banyan-tree. From this tree the merchants receive wonderful gifts; but they are insatiable, and finally plan to cut it down to see if there is not large treasure at the roots. The guardian-spirit of the tree, the serpent-king, punishes them. It is not impossible that some such parable as this lies behind the introduction to our story. There is abundant testimony from early travellers in the Islands that the natives in certain sections regarded trees as sacred, and could not be hired to cut them down for fear of offending the resident-spirit. The three handkerchiefs which the sisters leave with their mother as mementos are to be compared with the three rings in Basile's version. In a Serbian story belonging to this cycle (Wuk, No. 5), the three sisters are blown away by a strong wind (cf. our story of "Alberto and the Monsters," No. 39), and fall into the power of three dragons. When the brother, yet unborn at the time of their disappearance, reaches his eighteenth year, he sets out to seek his sisters, taking with him a handkerchief of each.

The obtaining of magic articles by a trick of the hero is found in many folk-tales. In Grimm, No. 197, which is distantly related to our story, the hero cheats two giants out of a wishing-cap over which they are quarrelling. In Grimm, No. 92, where we find the same situation, the magic articles are three,—a sword which will make heads fly off, a cloak of invisibility, a pair of transportation-boots (see Bolte-Polivka, 2 : 320 f., especially 331-335). In Grimm, No. 193, a flying saddle is similarly obtained. In Crane, No. XXXVI (p. 136 f.), Lionbruno acquires a pair of transportation-boots, an inexhaustible purse, and a cloak of invisibility. This incident is also found in Somadeva (Tawney, 1 : 14), where the articles are a pair of flying-shoes, a magic staff which writes what is going to happen, and a vessel which can supply any food the owner asks for. In another Oriental collection (Sagas from the Far East, pp. 23-24), the prince and his follower secure a cap of invisibility from a band of quarrelling boys, and a pair of transportation-boots from some disputing demons. Compare Tawney's note for other instances. This incident is also found in an Indian story by Stokes, No. XXII, "How the Raja's Son won the Princess Labam." In this the hero meets four fakirs, whose teacher (and master) has died, and has left four things,—"a bed which carried whosoever sat on it whithersoever he wished to go; a bag that gave its owner whatever he wanted,—jewels, food, or clothes; a stone bowl which gave its owner as much water as he wanted; and a stick that would beat enemies, and a rope that would tie them up." Compare also the "Dadhi-vahana-jataka," No. 186, which is connected with our No. 27. In the Filipino story of "Alberto and the Monsters" (No. 39) the hero acquires a transportation-boot from two quarrelling boys; from two young men, a magic key that will unlock any stone; and from two old men wrangling over it, a hat of invisibility. In another Tagalog story, "Ricardo and his Adventures" (notes to No. 49), appears a flying saddle, but this is not obtained by trickery.

For the "Fee-fi-fo-fum" formula hinted at in our story, see Bolte-Polivka, 1 : 289-292.

In many of the members of this cycle, when the hero takes his leave of his brothers-in-law, he is given feathers, hair, scales, etc., with which he can summon them in time of need. In our story, however, Juan has no such labor-saving device: he has to visit his brothers a second time when he desires aid against the giant.

The last part of our story turns on the idea of the "separable soul or strength" of the dragon, snake, demon, giant, or other monster. This idea has been fully discussed by Macculloch (chapter V). As this conception is widespread in the Orient and is found in Malayan literature (e.g., in "Bidasari"), there is no need of tracing its occurrence in the Philippines to Europe. In the norm of this cycle, the animal brothers-in-law help the hero perform tasks which the king requires all suitors for his daughter's hand to perform. Here the beasts help the hero secure the life and strength of the giant who is holding the princess captive.

Taken as a whole, our story seems to have been imported into the Philippines from the Occident, for the reason that no Oriental analogues of it appear to exist, while not a few are known from southern Europe. Our two variants are from the Tagalog province of Batangas, and, so far as I know, the story is not found elsewhere in the Islands. As suggested above, however, the introduction is probably native, or at least very old, and the conclusion has been modified by the influence of another cycle well known in the Orient.



TALE 19

JUAN WEARING A MONKEY'S SKIN.

Narrated by Lorenzo Licup, a Pampango from Angeles, Pampanga.

Once upon a time there was a couple which was at first childless. The father was very anxious to have a son to inherit his property: so he went to the church daily, and prayed God to give him a child, but in vain. One day, in his great disappointment, the man exclaimed without thinking, "O great God! let me have a son, even if it is in the form of a monkey!" and only a few days later his wife gave birth to a monkey. The father was so much mortified that he wanted to kill his son; but finally his better reason prevailed, and he spared the child. He said to himself, "It is my fault, I know; but I uttered that invocation without thinking." So, instead of putting the monkey to death, the couple just hid it from visitors; and whenever any one asked for the child, they merely answered, "Oh, he died long ago."

The time came when the monkey grew to be old enough to marry. He went to his father, and said, "Give me your blessing, father! for I am going away to look for a wife." The father was only too glad to be freed from this obnoxious son, so he immediately gave him his blessing. Before letting him go, however, the father said to the monkey, "You must never come back again to our house."

"Very well, I will not," said the monkey.

The monkey then left his father's house, and went to find his fortune. One night he dreamed that there was a castle in the midst of the sea, and that in this castle dwelt a princess of unspeakable beauty. The princess had been put there so that no one might discover her existence. The monkey, who had been baptized two days after his birth and was named Juan, immediately repaired to the palace of the king. There he posted a letter which read as follows: "I, Juan, know that your Majesty has a daughter."

Naturally the king was very angry to have his secret discovered. He immediately sent soldiers to look for Juan. Juan was soon found, and brought to the palace. The king said to him, "How do you know that I have a daughter? If you can bring her here, I will give her to you for a wife. If not, however, your head shall be cut off from your body."

"O your Majesty!" said Juan, "I am sure that I can find her and bring her here. I am willing to lose my head if within three days I fail to fulfil my promise." After he had said this, Juan withdrew, and sadly went out to look for the hidden princess.

As he was walking along the road, he heard the cry of a bird. He looked up, and saw a bird caught between two boughs so that it could not escape. The bird said to him, "O monkey! if you will but release me, I will give you all I have."

"Oh, no!" said the monkey. "I am very hungry, and would much rather eat you."

"If you will but spare my life," said the bird, "I will give you anything you want."

"On one condition only will I set you free," said the monkey. "You must procure for me the ring of the princess who lives in the midst of the sea."

"Oh, that's an easy thing to do," said the bird. So the monkey climbed the tree and set the bird free.

The bird immediately flew to the island in the sea, where fortunately it found the princess refreshing herself in her garden. The princess was so charmed with the song of the bird, that she looked up, and said, "O little bird! if you will only promise to live with me, I will give you anything you want."

"All right," said the bird. "Give me your ring, and I will forever live with you." The princess held up the ring; and the bird suddenly snatched it and flew away with it. It gave the ring to the monkey, who was, of course, delighted to get it.

Now the monkey jogged along the road until finally he saw three witches. He approached them, and said to them, "You are the very beings for whom I have spent the whole day looking. God has sent me here from heaven to punish you for your evil doings toward innocent persons. So I must eat you up."

Now, witches are said to be afraid of ill-looking persons, although they themselves are the ugliest beings in all the world. So these three were terribly frightened by the monkey's threat, and said, "O sir! spare our lives, and we will do anything for you !"

"Very well, I will spare you if you can execute my order. From this shore you must build a bridge which leads to the middle of the sea, where the castle of the princess is situated."

"That shall be speedily done," replied the witches; and they at once gathered leaves, which they put on their backs. Then they plunged into the water. Immediately after them a bridge was built. Thus the monkey was now able to go to the castle. Here he found the princess. She was very much surprised to see this evil-looking animal before her; but she was much more frightened when the monkey showed her the ring which the bird had given him, and claimed her for his wife. "It is the will of God that you should go with me," said the monkey, after the princess had shown great repugnance towards him. "You either have to go with me or perish." Thinking it was useless to attempt to resist such a mighty foe, the princess finally yielded.

The monkey led her to the king's palace, and presented her before her parents; but no sooner had the king and queen seen their daughter in the power of the beast, than they swooned. When they had recovered, they said simultaneously, "Go away at once, and never come back here again, you girl of infamous taste! Who are you? You are not the princess we left in the castle. You are of villain's blood, and the very air which you exhale does suffocate us. So with no more ado depart at once!"

The princess implored her father to have pity, saying that it was the will of God that she should be the monkey's wife. "Perhaps I have been enchanted by him, for I am powerless to oppose him." But all her remonstrance was in vain. The king shut his ears against any deceitful or flattering words that might fall from the lips of his faithless and disobedient daughter. Seeing that the king was obstinate, the couple turned their backs on the palace, and decided to find a more hospitable home. So the monkey now took his wife to a neighboring mountain, and here they settled.

One day the monkey noticed that the princess was very sad and pale. He said to her, "Why are you so sad and unhappy, my darling? What is the matter?"

"Nothing. I am just sorry to have only a monkey for my husband. I become sad when I think of my past happiness."

"I am not a monkey, my dear. I am a real man, born of human parents. Didn't you know that I was baptized by the priest, and that my name is Juan?" As the princess would not believe him, the monkey went to a neighboring hut and there cast off his disguise (balit cayu). He at once returned to the princess. She was amazed to see a sparkling youth of not more than twenty years of age—nay, a prince—kneeling before her. "I can no longer keep you in ignorance," he said. "I am your husband, Juan."

"Oh, no! I cannot believe you. Don't try to deceive me! My husband is a monkey; but, with all his defects, I still cling to him and love him. Please go away at once, lest my husband find you here! He will be jealous, and may kill us both."

"Oh, no! my darling, I am your husband, Juan. I only disguised myself as a monkey."

But still the princess would not believe him. At last she said to him, "If you are my real husband, you must give me a proof of the fact." So Juan [we shall hereafter call him by this name] took her to the place where he had cast off his monkey-skin. The princess was now convinced, and said to herself, "After all, I was not wrong in the belief I have entertained from the beginning,—that it was the will of God that I should marry this monkey, this man."

Juan and the princess now agreed to go back to the palace and tell the story. So they went. As soon as the king and queen saw the couple, they were very much surprised; but to remove their doubt, Juan immediately related to the king all that had happened. Thus the king and queen were finally reconciled to the at first hated couple. Juan and his wife succeeded to the throne on the death of the king, and lived peacefully and happily during their reign.

The story is now ended. Thus we see that God compensated the father and mother of Juan for their religious zeal by giving them a son, but punished them for not being content with what He gave them by taking the son away from them again, for Juan never recognized his parents.

Notes.

A Bicol version, "The Monkey becomes King," narrated by Gregorio Frondoso, who heard the story from an old man of his province, is almost identical with this Pampango tale. There are a few slight differences, however. "In the Bicol, the rich parents give their monkey-offspring away to a man, who keeps the animal in a cage. Finally the monkey manages to escape, and sets out on his travels. Now the king of that country builds a high tower in the middle of the sea, imprisons his daughter there, and promises her hand to the one who can take her from the tower. The monkey succeeds, as in the Pampango. The rest of the story is practically as given in the text, except that the narrator mentions the fact that the monkey's parents fall into poverty, and in their distress seek aid from their son, now become king. However, he refuses to recognize them, because of their former harshness to him, and drives them away." With both these stories may be compared two other Filipino tales already in print, "The Enchanted Shell" (JAFL 20 : 90-91) and "The Living Head" (ibid., 19 : 106).

The "Animal Child" cycle, of which our story and its variants are members is widely spread throughout Europe. The main incidents of this group are the following.

A In accordance with the wish of the parents, a child in the form of an animal is brought into the world. This phenomenon usually takes place in consequence of a too vehement prayer for children, or an inconsiderate wish for a son even if he should prove to be only an animal.

B The animal offspring grows up, is married usually through his own ingenuity, and is finally disenchanted through the burning of his animal disguise either with or without his consent.

European representatives of this type are Grimm, Nos. 108, 144; Von Hahn, Nos. 14, 31, 43, 57, 100; Wuk, No. 9; Proehle, No. 13; Straparola 2 : i; Basile, No. 15; Schott, No. 9; Pitre, No. 56 (see also his notes); Comparetti, Nos. 9, 66. Compare also Koehler-Bolte, 318-319. Related Oriental forms of this story are discussed by Benfey, 1 : 254 ff. (section 92).

Although our stories are related to this large family of "Animal Child" tales, it appears to be the Oriental branch rather than the Occidental with which they are the more closely connected. The monkey-child, the castle in the midst of the sea, the building of the bridge from the mainland to the island, the retirement of the monkey and his royal wife to live in the forest,—all suggest vaguely but unmistakably Indian material. I am unable to point to any particular story as source, and our tale appears to have incorporated in it other Maerchen motifs; but it seems to be faintly reminiscent of the "Ramayana." The imprisoning or hiding of a princess, and the promise of her hand to the one who can discover her, are found in our No. 21 (q.v.). No. 29, too, should be compared.

Among the Santals, the theme of a girl's marrying a monkey is common in Maerchen (see Bompas, No. XV, "The Monkey Boy;" No. XXXII, "The Monkey and the Girl;" and No. LXX, "The Monkey Husband"). In none of these stories, however, is there a transformation of the animal into a human being.



TALE 20

HOW SALAKSAK BECAME RICH.

Narrated by Lorenzo Licup, a Pampango from Angeles, Pampanga.

Once upon a time there lived two brothers. The elder was named Cucunu, and the younger Salaksak. Their parents were dead, so they divided the property that had been left to them. In accordance with this division, each received a cow and a piece of land. Salaksak separated from his brother, and built a small house of his own.

Now, the rice of Cucunu grew faster than that of his brother: so his brother became jealous of him. One night Salaksak turned his cow loose in his brother's field. When Cucunu heard of this, he went to his brother, and said to him, "If you let your cow come into my field again, I shall whip you." But Salaksak paid no attention to his brother's threat, and again he let his cow go into the field of Cucunu. At last his brother grew so impatient that he killed the cow. When Salaksak went to look for his animal, all he found was its skin. As he was ashamed of his deed and afraid of his brother, he dared not accuse him: so he took the skin and put it into a basket.

Not long afterward several hundred cows passed him along the road. He followed them. While the herdsmen were eating their dinner, Salaksak threw his skin among the cows. Then he went up to the hut where the herdsmen were, and said to the chief of the herdsmen, "Friend, it is now a week since I lost my cow, and I am afraid that she has become mixed up with your herd. Please be so kind, therefore, as to count them." The chief immediately went over to where the cows were. As he was counting them, Salaksak picked up the skin, and, shaking his head, he said, "Alas! here is the mark of my cow, and this must be my cow's skin. You must pay me a thousand pesos, or else you shall be imprisoned. My cow was easily worth a thousand pesos; for when she was alive, she used to drop money every day." In their great fear, the herdsmen paid Salaksak the money at once.

Salaksak now went home and told his brother of his good fortune. Hoping to become as rich as his brother, Cucunu immediately killed his cow. He took the skin with him, and left the flesh to Salaksak. As he was in the street calling out, "Who wants to buy a hide?" he was summoned by the ruler of the town, and was accused of having stolen the hide, and he was whipped so badly that he could hardly walk home.

Maddened by the disgrace he had suffered, Cucunu burned the house of his brother one day while he was away. When Salaksak came home, he found nothing but ashes. These he put into a sack, however, and set out to seek his fortune again. On his way he overtook an old man who was carrying a bag of money on his back. Salaksak asked him, "Are you going to the ruler's house?"

"Yes," replied the old man, "I have to give this money to him."

"I am sorry for you, old man. I, too, am going to the palace. What do you say to exchanging loads? Mine is very light in comparison with yours."

"With all my heart, kind boy!" said the old man; and so they exchanged sacks.

After they had travelled together a short distance, Salaksak said, "Old man, you seem to be stronger when you have a light load. Let me see how fast you can run." The old man, having no suspicion of his companion, walked ahead as fast as he could. As soon as Salaksak came to a safe place along the road to hide, he deserted his companion. He went to his brother's house, and told him that he had gotten a sack of silver for a sack of ashes.

"Why," said his brother, "my house is bigger than yours! I ought to get two sacks of ashes if I burn it. I think that would be a good bargain." So he burned his house, too. Then he went through the town, crying, "Who wants to buy ashes?"

"What a foolish man!" said the housewives. "Why should we buy ashes when we don't know what to do with those that come from our own stoves?" When Cucunu came near the house of the ruler, the ruler said to his servants, "I think that fellow is the same one I bade you whip before. Call him in and give him a good thrashing, for he is only making a fool of himself." So Cucunu was summoned and lashed again.

Thoroughly enraged, Cucunu determined that his brother should not deceive him a third time. He thought and thought of what he should do to get rid of him. At last he decided to throw his brother into the river. For this purpose he made a strong cage. One day he caught his brother and confined him in it.

"I will give you three days to repent," said Cucunu. "Now you cannot deceive me any more." He then left his brother in the cage by the bank of the river.

As a young man was passing by, Salaksak began to cry out, "They have put me into this cage because I do not want to marry the ruler's daughter." The young man, who had vainly striven for the hand of the girl, immediately approached Salaksak, and said, "If you will let me take your place, so that I may marry her, I will give you all the cows I have with me."

So by this trick Salaksak escaped. Cucunu, thinking that the man in the cage was his brother, would not listen to what he said, but unmercifully threw him into the river. A few days later, Salaksak went to his brother's house, and told him that it was quite beautiful under the water. "There," he said, "I saw our father and mother. They told me I was not old enough to stay with them, so they sent me back here with a large number of cows."

"Well, well!" said Cucunu, "I too must go see our parents." He then hastened to the river, and threw himself in and was drowned. Thus Salaksak grew rich because of his craftiness.

Clever Juan and Envious Diego.

Narrated by Pablo Anzures, a Tagalog from Manila, who heard the story from another Tagalog from Santa Maria, Bulakan.

There were once two brothers named Diego and Juan. Their father had died a long time before, so they lived only with their good mother. In character these two brothers were very different. Diego, the older, was envious and foolish; Juan was clever.

One morning, while Diego was away, Juan called his mother, and said, "Mother, help me fool Diego! Please lie down as if you were dead; and when he arrives, I will blow air through your nose through a bamboo tube. As soon as you feel me blowing, get up and try to look like a woman that has risen from the dead." His mother agreed to do all that she had been told. Then Juan watched and waited for Diego. When he saw him coming, he called to his mother and told her to lie down. Then he pretended to be crying.

When Diego came in and saw his brother, he said, "Juan, why are you crying?"

"Don't you see? Our mother is dead," said Juan. Then Diego felt very sorry, and he too began to weep. Juan then said, "O brother! I remember that I have a magic instrument that resuscitates dead persons." He opened his trunk and took out a short bamboo tube, and began to blow through it into his mother's nose. His mother then pretended to revive, as she had been told. Diego rejoiced; he too was very much surprised at his brother's possession.

The next day the envious Diego stole the bamboo tube and went to the churchyard. There he waited for a funeral to pass by. After a short time the funeral procession of a small boy came along. Diego stopped it, and called to the mother of the boy, "Don't cry! your son is only sleeping. Lay him down here, and you will soon see that he is alive." The mother then ordered the carriers to lay the coffin on the ground. Diego took out his bamboo tube, and, after he had opened the coffin, he began to blow air into the boy's nose; but the boy did not move. He blew harder and harder, but the boy remained as stiff and lifeless as ever. Then the mother of the dead boy became angry; she kicked Diego, and said, "You are only trying to fool us!" Diego was very much ashamed, so he threw away the bamboo tube and ran home.

Some days later the mother of Diego and Juan became ill and died. She left her sons two carabaos for an inheritance. As Diego was the older, he took the fat carabao for himself, and gave the thin one to Juan. Juan was angry: so he killed his carabao, and decided to sell the hide. He tried to sell it in the neighboring villages, but he could not find a buyer. He then walked on and on until he came to a forest. Not very far off, and coming towards him, he saw a band of Tulisanes. [65] They were on horseback, and had a large amount of treasure with them. Juan was afraid: so he climbed a tree, and hid himself with his hide among the branches and leaves. He had no more than concealed himself when the Tulisanes came up and stopped to eat under that very tree. Juan watched them closely. He unintentionally moved the hide which was on the branch beside him, and it fell crashing down on the Tulisanes. Frightened by this most unexpected noise, they ran away as fast as they could, not stopping to take anything with them. Juan descended quickly, mounted a horse, and made off with as much as he could carry.

When he reached home, his brother said to him, "Where did you get all those riches?" Juan replied that he had been given them by the neighboring villages in return for his carabao-hide. Again Diego envied his brother. He went out and killed his fat carabao and dried its hide. Next he went to the neighboring villages and tried to sell it; but many days passed, and still no one would buy.

Now Diego was very angry. He took a wooden box and put his brother inside. He bound the box and carried it to the seashore. He was about to throw it into the water when he remembered that it was not locked: so he left it, and went back to the house to get the key. Meanwhile a Chinese peddler selling gold rings came along. Juan heard him, and shouted, "Chino, Chino, come and see these beautiful and precious things inside!" The Chinaman approached, and opened the box. Juan came out, and said, "I will put you inside, and you will see many beautiful things in the bottom." The Chinaman was willing, so Juan put him in and closed the box. He then took the Chino's gold rings and ran away. Not many minutes later Diego came up, and, after locking the box, he threw it into the ocean.

That same day, while Diego was eating his dinner, Juan came along with some fine gold rings. Diego was astonished to see his brother, and said, "How did you manage to get out of the box, and where did you get those rings?" Juan answered that he sank to the bottom of the ocean, where he saw his mother, and that she had given him all those rings. The foolish Diego believed everything that Juan told him, so he asked his brother to put him into a box and throw him into the ocean. Juan lost no time in obeying. He got a box, put Diego inside, took it to the seashore, and there cast it into the deep water. After that Juan lived happily for many years.

Ruined because of Invidiousness.

Narrated by Facundo Esquivel, a Tagalog from Jaen, Nueva Ecija, who was told the story when he was a boy.

In time out of memory there lived two brothers, Pedro and Juan. Pedro was rich, for he had a large herd of cattle: consequently he did not have much use for his younger brother, who was very poor. Juan had nothing that he could call his own but a cow. One day, disappointed over his life of poverty, he killed his cow, and some days afterward he set out to find his fortune. He took nothing with him but the hide of his cow. When he reached the next town, he saw large piles of cattle-hides in front of a butcher's shop. Late that night he stole out secretly and put the skin of his cow in one of the piles. The next morning he went to the shop to talk with the butcher.

"Mr. Butcher," he said, "I have come here to look for my lost cow. Have you not killed a cow with a mark J on the right hip?"

"No," answered the honest man, "all the cows which were killed here came from my herd out there in the mountains."

Juan stood musing for a few moments, and then said, "Let us look through these piles of hide to see whether you killed my cow or not!"

"All right," answered the butcher, and so they began the investigation.

When they found the hide which Juan had put there, he began to quarrel with the man. "You must pay me five hundred pesos for my cow, or else I shall bring a law-suit before the court against you," he said angrily.

"I wonder how this could have happened!" the butcher exclaimed.

"There is no use of wondering," said Juan impatiently. "You stole my cow, and now you have to pay for it." The man, who was very much afraid of being brought before the court, gave Juan the five hundred pesos; and Juan went away with the money in his pocket, and the hide on his head.

On his way home he came to a tree standing at a cross-roads. He was very tired and thirsty, but he could not find a house where to ask for water. He climbed the tree to look for a place to go to, but, instead of a house, he saw a company of armed men coming down the road. The men stopped under the tree to rest. Juan was so terrified that he hardly knew what to do. As he was trembling with fright, the hide fell down from the tree and frightened the men away. They thought that it was a curse from heaven because of their misdeeds. When Juan realized that the men were gone, he recovered from his fright and quickly descended. There on the ground he saw a number of sacks full of money, and, loading a horse with two of the sacks, he started for his home town.

As soon as he reached his house, he went to his brother's to borrow a salop. [66] Then he inserted several pesetas and ten-centavo pieces in the cracks of the salop, and returned the measure. When Pedro saw the coins sticking in the cracks of his measure, he said, "What did you do with the salop?"

"I measured money," said Juan.

"Where did you get the money?" Pedro demanded.

"Where did I get the money?" retorted Juan. "Don't you know that I went to the neighboring town to sell my cowhide?"

"Yes," said Pedro. Then he added, "The price of hides there must be very high, I suppose."

"There is no supposing about it," said Juan. "Just think! one hide is worth two sacks of money."

Pedro, who was envious of his brother's good fortune, killed all his cattle, old and young, and threw the meat into the river. The he started with several carretons [67] full of hides; but he was disappointed when he came to the town, for nobody would buy hides. Discouraged and tired out, he returned. He found Juan living comfortably in a fine new home. Thus Pedro lost all his property because of his invidiousness.

The Two Friends.

Narrated by Tomas V. Vargas (of Iloilo?).

Once there lived in a certain village two friends, Juan and Andres. Juan, a very rich man, was tall, big, and strong; while Andres, a very poor man, was small, weak, and short. Andres worked very hard to earn his living, while Juan spent most of his time on pleasure.

One morning Andres went to his friend Juan, and asked to borrow one of his mules. Juan consented, but told Andres that, if any one should ask who the owner of the mule was, he should tell the truth. Andres promised, and went off with the mule. He set to work immediately to plough his small farm. Very soon two neighbors of Andres passed by, and, seeing him with a mule, asked him where he got it. Andres said that he had bought it. The men wondered how a poor man like Andres could buy a mule, and they spread the news about the village. When this news reached Juan, he was very angry, and he ordered his servant to go bring back the mule. The animal was brought back, and Juan was determined not to lend it to his friend any more.

A week later two of Juan's mules, including that which Andres had borrowed, died. Juan threw the carcasses away, but Andres took the skins of those dead mules and dried them to sell in the next town.

The next day Andres set out for the town, resting now and then on account of his heavy load. He was overtaken by night near a solitary house between his village and the town where he was going to sell the hides. He knocked at the house, and asked a woman he found there for a night's lodging. She told him that she could not do anything for him until her husband arrived. So Andres had to wait on the road near the house. Not long afterwards a man came towards the house. Andres went up to him, and asked him if he was the master of the house; but the man said he was not, so Andres had to go back to the road. From where he was sitting, Andres could see that the woman inside was preparing a good supper for the stranger, who meanwhile had entered. While she and the stranger were sitting at the table, Andres saw another man approaching in the distance. The woman hastily opened a big empty trunk and hid the man inside, then she put all the cooked fish in the cupboard.

When the other man, who was the husband, arrived, Andres asked for a night's lodging, and was received kindly. While the husband and Andres were talking, the wife told them that supper was ready, and they went to the table to eat: but there they found nothing for them but rice; so Andres told the husband that he had an enchanted hide, and that they could have fish if he wished. The husband wished to see the skin tested. Andres ordered the skin to bring a man into the trunk; and when the trunk was opened, there was the man. Next he ordered the skin to bring cooked fish to the cupboard; and when the cupboard was opened, there was the cooked fish. The husband then offered Andres a very high price for the enchanted skin, and Andres willingly sold it.

Early the next morning Andres left the house before the others were up. It was not long, however, before the husband found out that the skin was not magic, and he was determined to punish the skin-seller if he should catch him again. Meanwhile Andres had returned to the village. There he met Juan, who, noticing the money in his pocket, asked him where he had gotten it. Andres told him that it was the price of the skins of his dead mules, which he had sold in the neighboring town. On hearing this, Juan went directly home, killed all his mules, and flayed them. As he was passing by the solitary house on his way to the town, he cried out that he had skins for sale. The husband in the house thought that it must be the same man who had sold him the enchanted skin, so he went down and whipped Juan nearly to death.

After this experience, Juan returned home, determined to kill his friend. But Andres was very cunning, and avoided him. Finally Juan, angry beyond all measure, killed the mother of Andres. When Andres found that his mother was dead, he dressed her very well and took her to town. Then he went directly to the town doctor, to whom he explained definitely the sickness of his mother. The doctor immediately prepared medicine for the patient; but just after she had been given the medicine, he noticed that the woman was dead. Andres then accused him of having poisoned his mother; and the doctor, fearing the consequences if Andres should seek justice, agreed to pay him a large sum of money.

Andres returned to his village richer than ever. Juan became friendly again, and asked him where he had gotten his money. Andres told him that it was the price of his mother's corpse, which he had sold in the town. When Juan heard this, he went home and killed his mother. Then he took the corpse to town to sell it; but, as he was passing along the street, a crowd of men began to abuse him, and he narrowly escaped with his life.

Now, Juan was determined not to let Andres escape him. He was after him all the time. Finally one day he caught Andres. He put him inside a sack and carried it down to the seashore. On the way to the sea, he saw a house, and, wishing to have a smoke, he left Andres on the road, and went to the house to get a light. Meanwhile Andres, who was bound in the sack, was crying out that he did not wish to marry the daughter of the king, and that he was being forced against his will. At this instant a cowboy with his herd of cows passed by. He heard Andres, and said that he was willing to marry the king's daughter. Andres told him to unbind the sack, then. He did so, and Andres put the cowherd in his stead. Then Andres hurried away with the cows. Juan came back, picked up the sack, and threw it into the sea. When he returned home, he found Andres there with a fine herd of cows. He asked Andres where he had found them, and Andres said that he had gotten them from under the sea. So Juan, envious as ever, ordered Andres to put him in a sack and throw him into the sea. Andres gladly did so.

Juan the Orphan.

Narrated by Leopoldo Uichanco, a Tagalog from Calamba, La Laguna.

There once lived a boy whose name was Juan. His parents had died, leaving Juan nothing but a horse. As he did not have a place at home in which to keep the animal, he begged his Uncle Diego to let the horse stay in his stable. From time to time Juan went to the stable to feed his horse. He loved the animal, and took as great care of it as a father would of a son.

One day Uncle Diego noticed that Juan's horse was growing fatter and more beautiful than any of his own animals. In his envy he killed the horse of his nephew, and said to the innocent boy that the animal had been stricken by "bad air." Being thus deprived of his sole wealth, Juan cut off the best meat from the dead horse, and with this food for his only provision he set out to seek his fortune in another country. On his way through a forest he came across an old man dying of starvation; but the old man had with him a bag full of money.

"Pray," said the old man, talking with difficulty in his pain and weakness, "what have you in your sack, my son?"

"Some dried horse-meat," said Juan.

"Let me see!" The old man looked into the sack, and saw with watering mouth the sweet-smelling meat. "Will you exchange your sack of meat for my sack of money?" he said to Juan. "I have money here, but I cannot eat it. Nor can I go to the town to buy food, because I am too weak. Since you are stronger, my son, pray take this sack of money in exchange, and go to the town and buy meat with it for yourself. For God's sake, leave this meat to me! I am starving to death."

Juan accepted the money in exchange for his meat, and pretended to feel great pity for the old man. He put the heavy bag of money on his shoulder, and with difficulty carried it home. "Uncle Diego!" Juan called out from the foot of his uncle's ladder, "come here! Please come here and help me carry this bag upstairs!"

"Tremendous sum of money," Uncle Diego remarked to his nephew. "Where did you get it?"

"I sold the meat of my dead horse. This is what I got for it," said Juan.

The uncle once more became jealous of Juan. "If with only one horse," he muttered to himself, "he could gain so much money, how much should I get for my fifteen horses!" So he killed all the horses he had in his stable and cut the meat from them. Then he placed the meat in bags, and, carrying two on his shoulders, he cried as he went along the street, "Meat, meat! Horse-meat! Who wishes to buy fresh horse-meat?"

"How much?" asked a gray-headed old woman who was looking out of the window.

"Three hundred ninety-nine thousand pesos, ninety-nine pesetas, six and one half centavos a pound," said Uncle Diego.

The people who heard him only laughed, and thought that something was the matter with his head. Nobody would buy his meat. Nobody cared to deal with him in earnest, and all his meat decayed.

He went home in despair, and planned to take vengeance on his nephew for the mischief he had done him. He cast the little orphan into a big sack, and sewed the mouth of the little prison all up. Then he said that at night he would take the sack and throw it into the river. However, Juan managed to get out of the bag, and in his place he put a muzzled dog. When night came, the uncle shouldered the bag, took it to the river, and hurled it into the deep water. He hoped that Juan would perish there, and that he himself could gain full possession of his nephew's money.

But when morning came, Uncle Diego saw Juan smilingly enter the door of his house. "Juan," said the uncle, "I am surprised to see you again. Tell me all about how you managed to escape from the sack."

"Oh, no, Uncle!" returned Juan, "I haven't time; there is not a moment to lose. I have only come here to bid you good-by."

"And where are you going?"

"Back to the bottom of the river. My love, the Sirena, [68] is waiting for me."

"O Juan!" pleaded the uncle, "if I could only go with you!"

"No, no, no!" protested the boy. "Only one can go at a time. The Sirena would be angry, and she would consequently refuse to admit to her glorious habitation any being from this outside world."

"Then let me go first!"

"No, no, no!" said the boy.

But the uncle pleaded so earnestly, that finally the boy yielded with pretended reluctance. The uncle then covered himself with a rice-sack, and Juan tied the mouth of the bag securely. "I will fool him," Uncle Diego said to himself. "When I am under the water and the Sirena takes me to her house to become her husband, I shall never come back to Juan. Ha, ha, ha!"

"I will fool him," Juan said to himself. "There is no such thing as the Sirena in the river. Thank God, my dreadful uncle will soon be disposed of!" At midnight Juan hurled his happy uncle into the river, saying, "There is no one who owes that must not pay his debt. [69] May my act be justified!"

The heavy sack sank to the bottom of the river, and nothing more was heard of Uncle Diego.

Notes.

Two other variants, which were collected by Mr. Rusk, and which I have only in abstract, run about as follows:—

Juan the Ashes-Trader.—Juan, a poor dealer in ashes, was in the woods when he heard some robbers coming, and climbed a tree for safety. While they were busy at the foot of the tree, counting their money, he dropped the sack of ashes among them. They ran away in fright, and he acquired all their gold. When the people of the town heard Juan tell how valuable ashes had become, they all burned their houses and took the ashes to the forest, where they arrived just in time to suffer from the wrath of the robbers. Only two escaped to accuse Juan; but Juan was already on a journey, doing good with his money. A dying woman, whom he helped, gave him a magic cane; and when the angry villagers at last found him, he summoned a legion of soldiers by means of his cane, and all of his assailants were killed. [With the second half of this story, cf. No. 28 and notes.]

Colassit and Colaskel.—Colassit was good but poor; Colaskel, rich but bad. Colaskel, quarrelling with Colassit, killed the latter's only carabao. Colassit skinned his dead animal, and took the hide to Laoag to sell it, but could find no purchaser. At night he asked for shelter at a house, but was refused on the ground that the husband was away from home; yet he boldly staid under the house. At midnight he heard the clatter of dishes above, looked up through a hole in the floor, and saw the woman dining merrily with a man. Just then the husband arrived home and knocked at the door. Colassit saw the woman put her paramour into a box in the corner, and the food in another box. Colassit now appeared at the door, and was invited in by the hospitable husband. On being asked what was in his bag, Colassit replied that it was a miraculous thing, which, when it made a noise, as it had a moment before when he had stepped on it, desired to say something. On being asked to interpret, Colassit said that the skin told him that there was delicious food in one of the boxes. Thereupon the food was produced. Now, it was said in the neighborhood that this house was haunted by the Devil, and the owner thought this a good opportunity to find out by magic where the Devil was. Colassit interpreted for the carabao-hide. The Devil was in the other box, he said. After tying the box with heavy ropes, Colassit started toward the river with it. He repeated a jingle which informed the man inside of his imminent fate. The latter replied (also in verse) that he would give a thousand pesos ransom. Colassit accepted, and so became rich. [The narrator says that this is only one of ten adventures belonging to the complete story. It is a pity that the other nine are missing.]

The cycle of tales to which all our variants belong, and which may appropriately be called the "Master Cheat" cycle, is one of the most popular known. It occurs in many different forms; indeed, the very nature of the story—merely a succession of incidents in which a poor but shrewd knave outwits his rich friend or enemy (the distinction matters little to the narrator), and finally brings about his enemy's death while he himself becomes rich—is such as to admit of indefinite expansion, so far as the number and variety of the episodes are concerned. There have been at least four comprehensive descriptive or bibliographical studies of this cycle made,—Koehler's (on Campbell's Gaelic story, No. 39), Cosquin's (notes to Nos. 10 and 20), Clouston's (2 : 229-288), and Bolte-Polivka's (on Grimm, No. 61). Of these, the last, inasmuch as it is the latest (1914) and made use of all the preceding, is the most complete. From it (2 : 10) we learn that the characteristic incidents of this family of drolls are as follows:—

A1 A rabbit (goat, bird) as carrier of messages. A2 A wolf sold for a ram.

B A gold-dropping ass (or horse).

C A self-cooking vessel.

D A hat which pays the landlord.

E1 Dirt (ashes) given (sold, substituted) for gold. E2 Money which was alleged to be in a chest, demanded from the storer of the chest.

F1 Cowhide (or "talking" bird) sold to adulteress, or (F2) sold to her husband, or (F3) exchanged for the chest in which the paramour is concealed, or (F4) elsewhere exchanged for money.

G1 A flute (fiddle, staff, knife) which apparently brings to life again the dead woman. G2 The dead mother killed a second time, and paid for by the supposed murderer.

H Escape of the hero from the sack (chest) by exchanging places with a shepherd.

J Death of the envious one, who wishes to secure some "marine cattle."

The opponents in this group of stories, says Bolte, "are either village companions, or unacquainted marketers, or a rich and an avaricious brother." In addition to the episodes enumerated above, might be mentioned two others not uncommonly found in this cycle:—

F5 Frightening robbers under tree by dropping hide or table on them.

F6 Borrowed measure returned with coins adhering to it.

As these last two occur in other stories, both droll and serious (e.g., Grimm, No. 59; and "1001 Nights," "Ali Baba"), they may not originally have belonged to our present group. However, see Cosquin's notes on his No. xx, "Richedeau" (1 : 225 f.). It is hard to say with certainty just what was originally the one basic motif to which all the others have at one time or another become attached; but it seems to me likely that it was incident H, the sack-by-the-sea episode, for it is this which is the sine qua non of the cycle. To be sure, our third story (c) lacks it, but proves its membership in the family by means of other close resemblances.

Of the elements mentioned by Bolte-Polivka, our five stories and two variants have the following: "How Salaksak became Rich," F4BE1HJ; "Clever Juan and Envious Diego," G1F5HJ; "Ruined because of Invidiousness," F4F5F6; "The Two Friends," F2G2HJ; "Juan the Orphan," F4H (modified) J; "Juan the Ashes-Trader," E1F5; "Colassit and Colaskel," F3. In a Visayan tale (JAFL 19 : 107-109) we find a combination of HJ with a variant of our No. 1. Incident D (hat paying landlord) forms a separate story, which we give below,—No. 50, "Juan and his Painted Hat." Incident B is also narrated as a droll by the Tagalogs; the sharper of the story scattering silver coins about the manure of his cow, and subsequently selling the "magic" animal for a large sum. An examination of the incidents distributed among the Filipino members of this cycle reveals the fact that episode A1 (hare as messenger) is altogether lacking. I have not met with it in any native story, and am inclined to believe that it is not known in the Islands. It is found widespread in Europe, but does not appear to be common in India: among fifteen Indian variants cited by Bolte it is found only twice (i.e., Indian Antiquary, 3 : 11 f.; Bompas, No. 80, p. 242). These Indian versions show, however, that the story in one form or another is found quite generally throughout that country, the Santali furnishing the largest number of variants (six, in all). It would seem reasonable to conclude, therefore, considering the fact that at least seven forms of the tale are known in the Philippines, extending from the Visayas to the northernmost part of Luzon, that the source of the incidents common to these and the Indian versions need not be sought outside the Orient. The case of incidents F1F2F3 seems different. They are lacking in the Far-Eastern representatives of this cycle; and their appearance in the Philippines may be safely traced, I think, to European influence. However, an Indian source for these incidents may yet be discovered, just as sources already have been for so many Italian novella and French fabliaux of a similar flavor. The fact that the earliest form of the "Master Cheat" cycle known is a Latin poem of the eleventh, possibly tenth, century (Koehler-Bolte, 233-234), is of course no proof that elements F4G1HJ, found in that poem, were introduced into India from Europe, though it might be an indication.



TALE 21

IS HE THE CRAFTY ULYSSES?

Narrated by Lorenzo Licup, a Pampango from Angeles, Pampanga.

Balbino and Alaga had only one child, a son named Suguid, who was at first greatly beloved by them. The couple was very rich, and therefore the boy wanted nothing that was not granted by his parents. Now, the son was a voracious eater. While still a baby, he used to pull up the nails from the floor and eat them, when his mother had no more milk to give him. When all the nails were exhausted, he ate the cotton with which the pillows were stuffed. Thus his parents used to compare him to a mill which consumes sugarcane incessantly. It was not many years before the wealth of the couple had become greatly diminished by the lavish expenditure they had to make for Suguid's food. So Suguid became more and more intolerable every day. At last his parents decided to cast him away into a place from which he might not be able to find his way home again.

One day they led him to a dense forest, and there abandoned him. Luckily for Suguid, a merchant soon passed by that place. The merchant heard him crying, and looked for him. He found the boy, and, being a good-natured man, he took the boy home with him. It was not long before the merchant realized that Suguid was a youth of talent, and he put him in school. In a few weeks the boy showed his superiority over his classmates. In time he beat even the master in points of learning. And so it was that after only five months of studying he left the school, because he found it too small for his expanding intellect.

By some mathematical calculation, so the tradition says, or by certain mysterious combinations of characters that he wrote on paper, Suguid discovered one day that a certain princess was hidden somewhere. She had been concealed in such a way that her existence might not be known other than by her parents and the courtiers. Suguid immediately went to the palace of the king, and posted a paper on the palace-door. The paper read as follows: "Your Majesty cannot deny me the fact that he has a daughter secluded somewhere. Your humble servant, Suguid Bociu."

When the king read this note, he became very angry, as he could now no longer keep the secret of his daughter's existence. He immediately despatched his soldiers to look for the presumptuous Suguid. The soldiers found the boy without much difficulty, and brought him before the king. Bursting with anger, the king said, "Are you the one who was bold enough to post this paper?"

"Yes, your Majesty."

"Can you prove what you have stated?"

"Yes, your Majesty."

"Very well," said the king; "if you can, I will give you my daughter for your bride. If within three days you fail to produce her before me, however, you shall be unconditionally executed."

"I will not fail to fulfil my promise, your Majesty," said Suguid.

After this brief interview, Suguid went directly home. He told the merchant all about his plan to marry the princess.

"Why did you dare tell the king that you know where his daughter is," said the merchant, "when there is no certainty at all of your finding her or of gaining her consent?"

"Oh, do not be afraid, father!" said Suguid. "If you will but provide me with twelve of the best goldsmiths that can be found in the whole city, I have no doubt of finding and captivating the fair princess." As the merchant was a rich man, and influential too, he summoned in an hour all the good goldsmiths that could be found in the city. When all the goldsmiths were assembled, Suguid ordered them to make a purlon. This purlon was made of gold, silver, and precious stones. It was oblong in shape, and hollow inside, being five feet high, three feet deep, and four feet long. Inside it were placed a chair and a lamp. By means of a certain device a person inside the purlon could breathe. Altogether its construction was so beautiful, that it seemed as if it were intended for the sight of the gods alone.

When all was ready, Suguid entered the purlon, taking with him all the necessary provisions,—food, fine clothes, a poniard, and a guitar. Every part of the purlon was so well joined, that no opening whatever could be detected. Before going into the purlon, Suguid told the merchant to take the goldsmiths home, and not to allow them to leave the house for three days, lest they should reveal the secret. Suguid then ordered five men to carry the purlon towards the king's palace. In the mean time he was playing the sweetest piece of music that mortal ears had ever heard. When the purlon was near the palace, the king was so charmed by the melodious music, that he asked the master of the carriers to halt for a moment. "Pray," he said, "are you the owner of that thing?"

"No, sir! a certain man in our district owns it," said the carrier.

"Who gave him this divine gift?"

"Your Majesty, this purlon, as it is called, is of a rather mysterious origin. The owner of this (pointing to the purlon) was a religious man. He was formerly very wealthy; but because he gave much alms to the poor and the needy, his riches soon came to an end. He is now so poor, that his silken clothes have all been exchanged for ragged cotton ones. Early one morning, when he was about to go to the church, he was surprised to find this purlon at his door, giving out music as you hear it now."

The king turned to the queen, who was sitting beside him, and said, "Oh, how happy our daughter would be if she should hear this enchanting piece of music!—Sir, if you will lend me this purlon, you may ask of me as a compensation any favor that you may want."

"Your Majesty, I will lend it to you with all my heart, but on condition that it be returned within two days, lest the owner scold me for having given it up."

"Yes," answered the king, "I will give it back as soon as my daughter has seen it." The king and queen then immediately ordered that the purlon be carried before the princess. The princess's joy need not be described if we only think how happy we should be if we were in the same situation as she. She was so bewitched by the music, that she told her father never to take it away from her.

"O daughter!" said the king, "we have just borrowed this purlon, and we promised to return it as soon as you had seen it. However, you may have it the whole night."

The king and the queen, convinced that their daughter was quite happy, soon bade her good-by. Before leaving, the king said, "You must not spend the whole night in listening to the sweet music."

"Have no fear, father! I will go to sleep early."

Suguid, who was inside the purlon, listened very carefully to the retreating footsteps of the king and queen. As soon as he thought they were too far away to hear their daughter in case she should cry out, he came out from the purlon, poniard in hand. The princess, of course, was very much frightened when she saw Suguid kneeling before her, and saying, "Fair princess, let not my presence cause any fear! In coming here, I had no other purpose than to reveal to you a secret that I have long cherished in my heart. It is universally acknowledged that you are the most beautiful, the most virtuous, the most accomplished living mortal on earth, and as such you have awakened in me an intense love. So, taking no heed of the danger that I might encounter on the way, I ventured to search for you, Lily of the Valley and Rose of the Town—to love you, to adore you as a living saint. Your ring, my adored princess, will give me life or death,—life, because I shall be spared from being beheaded; death, for I have promised your father to present your ring to him within three days as a token of your acceptance of my suit. Therefore, Queen of Beauty, choose, your ring, or my death. I have my poniard ready, and I prefer a hundred times to die—nay, die smiling—at your hands."

The princess was so moved by this passionate speech, that she was mute for some time. After a difficult struggle within herself, she said, "Seeing your intense love and devotion for me, I cannot but consent to your proposal. Were not the matter pressing, however, I should not give my consent in so short a time. Here is the ring, if pleasure it will give you."

Suguid took the ring courteously, and said, "How can I paint in words my pleasure and gratitude! As it were, you have snatched me from the cold hands of Death. You have saved me from the fury of your father. You have given me a heaven of joy. Oh, how shall I describe it! I thank you very much. But now I must leave you and go into the purlon,—the blessed purlon,—as it is almost morning. Your father will soon come and take this purlon away. But I must let you know this one fact: as soon as I have presented this ring to the king, you will be taken away from here. You will be made my beloved wife."

"Yes, I have no objection to that," said the princess. Suguid, being thus assured of his success, entered the purlon again.

Morning came, and the king and queen went to the princess's palace at ten o'clock. They talked a while with their daughter, who assured them of her great satisfaction with the purlon. Then they bade her good-by, as there was important business to be transacted that day. They took the purlon with them, and returned it to the agent.

On the appointed day Suguid appeared at the king's palace, carrying with him the emblem of his victory,—the ring. On seeing Suguid approaching so cheerfully, the king knew that he was lost. He therefore swooned, but on recovering he realized that he had to abide by his promise. He reluctantly caused the princess to be summoned from her palace, and she and Suguid were married together; and it was not long before the king and queen began to appreciate the talent of their humble and lowly son-in-law. By Suguid's wise policy the kingdom prospered, and for the first time learned what peace really meant.

Notes.

I have a variant of this story, "Juan the Poor," told more briefly, narrated by Andrea Mariano, a Tagalog, who heard it from her little brother. It runs thus in outline:—

Juan is the son of a beggar. The beggar dies, and the son sells himself to a merchant for money to bury his father properly. After Juan has been educated, he posts this sign in front of the merchant's house: "I can trace everything that is lost.—Juan." The king sees the sign, and requires the boy to discover his hidden daughter. Method: Golden carriage with Juan playing music inside; old man hired to push it. The king borrows the carriage and takes it to his daughter. When alone with the princess, Juan declares his love, and she gives him her ring. Next day the carriage is returned to the old man. Juan takes the ring to the king, and is given the princess's hand in marriage because he is so wise.

For another Tagalog variant see "The King, the Princess, and the Poor Boy" (JAFL 20 : 307). This is almost identical with the variant above, except that the hero is advised by two statues how to discover where the princess is. Furthermore, the hero is discovered with the princess after he has gained access to her by means of the gilt carriage and music-box.

The fullest form of the story, however, is the Tagalog metrical romance popularly known under the title "Juan Bachiller." The full title runs as follows: "The Sad Life of a Father and of his Son named Juan, in the Kingdom of Spain. The son sold himself to a merchant on condition that he would bury the corpse of his father." My copy bears the date 1907, but this is merely a reprint of an older edition. Retana cites an edition dated 1902 (No. 4337) and one before 1898 (No. 4156). The poem is in 12-syllable lines, and contains 350 quatrains. It is still very popular among the Tagalogs, but does not appear to have been printed in any of the other Philippine languages. Inasmuch as there is a close connection between our variants and the verse form of the story, I give a prose paraphrase of the latter:—

There was once a poor beggar, Serbando, who had an only son named Juan. They lived in the kingdom of Spain. They had a little hut outside the city in which Serbando used to go to beg their living. One morning, when Juan returned home from school and was playing around their little hovel, he heard many kinds of birds speaking to him thus: "Juan, be patient and toil in poverty. The time will come when God will reward you." Then a large bird flew to him, and said, "Juan, leave your little miserable hut; go and seek your fortune." When his father returned home, Juan told him all about the advice of the birds. Serbando did not believe that birds could talk, and doubted, of course, the truth of what his son said.

Now, it happened that Serbando became sick, and after a short time died, leaving his son alone in the world. Poor Juan wept bitterly over the dead body. He did not know what to do. He covered the corpse of his father, and then went crying out through the streets of the city, "Who wants to buy a slave?" A merchant heard him. "I will serve you as long as I live if you will only see to the burial of my dead father," said Juan to the merchant. Without hesitation the merchant assented, and together they went to the little hut. The merchant ordered and paid for a funeral; there was a procession, a mass, and after the burial a banquet. Then the merchant took the boy to live with him in the city where the king and queen lived. Moreover, this kind merchant sent Juan to school, and treated him as a son. In time Juan took his bachelor's degree, and was greatly admired and respected by his teachers.

One afternoon Juan put a notice on the door of the merchant's house, which read thus: "If we use money, there is nothing we cannot discover." It happened that on that same afternoon the king and queen were driving through the streets of the city. The king chanced to fix his eyes on the sign which Juan had put up. He did not believe that the notice was true; and so, when he arrived at the palace, he ordered the merchant to appear before him. The merchant was very much frightened at the summons, so Juan himself went and presented himself before the king.

"Is the notice on your door true?" asked the king.

"It is true, your Majesty," said Juan.

"Then go and find my daughter. If you can find her, she shall be your wife; if not, you shall lose your head three days from now," said the king, who hid his daughter in a secret room in the palace.

Juan went home and called all the best goldsmiths in the kingdom. He told them to make a little wagon of pure gold, with a secret cell inside in which a man could sit with a musical instrument and play it. The goldsmiths finished the wagon in two days and were paid off. Then Juan called a man and told him to drag this little wagon along the street toward the palace, and then to the plaza. After entering the secret cell with his musical instrument, he told the driver to do as he had been directed. The man began to drag the wagon along the street toward the palace. Men, women, and children crowded both sides of the street to see this wagon of pure gold, which gave out such sweet music. When the wagon passed in front of the palace, the queen was amazed at it. She asked the king to summon the driver before him. So the king called the driver, and asked him to bring the golden wagon into the hall where the queen was.

"How much will you sell this for?" asked the queen.

"I will not sell it," answered the driver.

"Can you not lend it to me until this afternoon?" said the king; and at last the driver agreed to lend the wagon for a few hours.

The queen then dragged the wagon along the hall, and took it to her daughter in the secret room. The princess was delighted. As she pushed it forwards and backwards, sweet music charmed her ears. At last Juan came out of the secret cell in the wagon and knelt before the princess. He told her why he had been led to play this trick, and last of all he told her that he would have lost his life on the morrow if he had not been able to find her. He also began to express his love for her. At first she hesitated to accept his protestations of affection; but at last she accepted him, and gave him one of her rings as a sign that she would marry him. Fearing that he might be caught in the room by some one else, Juan now entered the secret cell of the wagon again.

At last the king came, and started to drag the wagon out of the palace to the place where the driver was waiting. Juan suddenly opened the door of the secret cell and stood before the king. "O king!" he said, "now I have accomplished your command. I have found and seen your daughter in the secret room, and she has given me this ring."

The king was amazed, and said to himself that, had he known that the wagon contained any one inside, he would not have allowed it to be brought to his hidden daughter. He said to Juan, "You have told the truth, that anything can be discovered if money is used; but you shall not marry my daughter."

"Remember your promise," said Juan.

"Wait, and I will ask the princess," said the king. "She might refuse."

"Whether she refuses or not, she is to be my wife, for I have seen her and found her," replied Juan.

"Then you shall have her," said the king.

So Juan was married to the princess, and there was great rejoicing in the kingdom. The king, however, was very sorry that his daughter had married Juan, who had now the right to inherit the throne from him. He could not endure the idea, so he pondered night and day how to kill Juan under some pretext or other. Juan learned of the king's plot, and decided to leave the city for a while. He asked his wife for permission to go and visit the little hut in which he was born, and at last she consented.

One day Juan left the palace and went to the country. While he was walking in the woods near his old home, two birds flew to him. "Juan, take this ring with you: it has magic power, and will furnish you whatever you ask of it," said the male bird.

"Here, take this pen-point, and use it whenever the king asks you to write for him," said the female bird. "Remember, Juan, you do not need to have any ink; you can use your saliva," it continued. "Now go back to the kingdom, and do not be afraid of the king's plots," said the two birds together. So Juan went back to the palace, and lived there with his wife.

One day the king called Juan, and ordered him to write something. The king thought that if Juan should make any mistakes in the writing, he would order him to be executed. Juan used the pen-point which the second bird had given him. The king furnished him only paper, but no ink, so Juan used his saliva. "Write this, Juan," said the king: "'It is not right that you should be heir to my crown, and successor to the throne.'"

Juan wrote the words just as the king had given them, and they appeared on the paper in letters of pure gold. The king was very much surprised by this demonstration of Juan's ability.

Then the king continued, "Write this: 'You ought not to inherit the crown, you who were born in a little village, and whose ancestors are unknown.'" Juan wrote this dictation, and, as before, the letters were of pure gold. Again the king said, "Write now what I shall say: 'You cannot cheat a king like me; you saw my daughter the princess because you were hiding in the wagon of gold.'"

Juan wrote these words, and they were in pure gold too. The king was now sad, for he could think of no other way in which to detect a fault in Juan. So he dismissed his son-in-law, and showed the queen the golden letters that Juan had written. Juan returned to his apartments.

When night came, Juan decided to ask his magic ring for a tower which should stand beside the palace of the king. During the night the tower was erected; it was garrisoned with field-marshals, colonels, and soldiers. Early in the morning the king was surprised to see this tall tower standing beside his palace. He said to himself, "I rule the kingdom, and the kingdom is mine; this tower is in my kingdom, therefore the tower is mine." So the king went out of the palace and entered the tower. No one saluted him. Then he called Juan, and asked him about the tower. Juan answered that its presence there was due to the will and power of God. When Juan and the king together entered the tower, all the soldiers lined up and saluted Juan, and music was heard everywhere. Everything inside was made of solid silver and gold. The king was astounded at the magic power of his son-in-law, whom he was trying to kill.

"Juan," said the king, "wipe away this tower and erect at this moment a palace in its place. If you can do this, you shall be the king of the whole of Spain." By the magic power of the ring, Juan was able to fulfil the command, and the tower was changed into a beautiful palace. The council of the kingdom, at the order of the king, agreed to crown Juan and his wife king and queen. There was great rejoicing throughout the realm. The old king and his wife abandoned the palace, and went to live in an abbey, where they died.